Constellations
by Hylander McLeod
Summary: A series of spin offs. Focuses on the forest of barriers   manga verse   and the OVA  Trust and Betreyal . AU.


I haven't really tried to write any fics for Rurouni Kenshin though I've had numerous in mind. I suppose it's just hard to portray the characters in their real state while at the same time making it a good read. I'm a diehard Kenshin/Battousai X Tomoe fan for some reason so most stories, will center on them.

I really didn't like the fact Tomoe died the way she did with so many unanswered questions between the two. Heck I don't like that she died period.

One last point- I tend to borrow from both the manga and the OVA some will be a mix of both, others focused on one or the other.

Disclaimer- Rurouni Kenshin belongs to Watsuki but I do adore this one pairing.

* * *

He struggled to stay on his feet, leaning on his katana for support. His vision was fading, his breath was giving out. Blood, from the numerous wounds on his body seeps out, staining the snow. _A few ... more steps. Just … a … few …more. _

She ran to meet him, as if sensing his strength would give out and he would fall if she were to wait where she was. She catches him wrapping her left arm around his back as her right seeks out his. They embrace as his head falls on her shoulder. Relief overwhelms her; the worst is now over. They are together again.

Something is wrong. His breathing grows weaker, shallower. His body feels cold, too cold. His lips quiver as he struggles to draw breath.

Live on … Tomoe" he whispers, eyes closing as falls onto her.

She sinks to her knees, struggling to keep his body from falling on her. Was this fate's cruel joke taunting her once more? To have her happiness stolen from after having just found hours ago? To have her second die in her arms, after being deceived that he had barely survived the ordeal, that _**they**_ had survived, that they would have a future?

She shakes him to snap him back into consciousness. Instead of his something cold and foreign is clasped in her right wrist. She looks down, horrified.

Only then did she notice the Wakizashi he had silently slid into her hand. Gasping in shock she releases the hilt of the offending instrument of destruction. It clatters to the ground as she gently sits down in kneeling position, oblivious to the fact the blood from his latest and most likely last wound stains her kimono. Instead she pleads with the boy who now lies on the snow, his head in her lap, to keep fighting, to keep living, to come back to her. He does not answer. He does not stir. Horror grips at her heart.

His first love had betrayed him and Death, while his heart and his mind were conflict, seized the moment. With a pledge of her own one so empty and false, the veiled woman of shadows had stolen him from her. He would die in her grasp, betrayed once again, by the one he'd call savior. His name would be added to her long list of conquests, both men and women, who she'd toy with at fist and then cast aside, for a new thrill with a new victim.

Tomoe cradled the younger man's head in her lap. Tears fall from her eyes, as the dam breaks within her, the rivers of grief far too strong to hold them back.

Had he loved her that unconditionally that he'd give her his life if she sought it?

_I could never kill you, not you. _He had told her that once. Yet when he had said he had not known her intentions; her plot, her _role. _In the twisted game she played, she had lost the control by falling in love. Falling in love with one she wanted dead. He held the cards knowing of her betrayal, yet he gave her his own life rather than taking hers. She was no innocent, she knew that. So why didn't he kill her? Why he is on the ground and not her? Why she is crying while he lies dead? Should not her body be the one left amidst the blood and the snow while he walks away with cold indifference?

. His face still bore that same calm peaceful look as it did at the inn, as if he were still sleeping silently, the katana clutched in his hand. His face still adorned by the one single scar her first love had given him. The same time she had touched that scarred cheek, the first domino to fall over and mark the spiraling events they both were thrown into. He's happy she's safe. And so she cries. Cries for the child too soon pushed into adulthood and whose life had, too soon, been cut short.

Distant sounds reach her ears. Running footsteps, her brothers joyous cry, his encouragements for her to stand up and leave the assassin amidst the white and read ground and return home in happiness. They repeat with intensity, each more than the last, yet unable to reach her as if blocked by an impenetrable barrier, the borders of her world. _Her world._ What was her world now but a dark and cold void filled with sorrow and emptiness, the same world which only this morning was filled with a fire of hope, a fire so bright that it could not be doused.

She feels a tug at the sleeve of her kimono. She shakes her in hopes to once again lose herself from that distant cry. The result is second tug. A third and a fourth. She lashes out with her arm swinging it violently,

She does not here the slapping sound of arm against her brother's face or his sudden yell at the action. She does not see his pained expression. She does not hear his words. Her heart is in turmoil. Her second love, this red haired young man, a boy really, barely of age lies dead on the snow covered ground before her. She had left him this morning in hopes of saving his life. She found herself used by the group that was 'helping' her, purposely put to weaken his heart, to have him fall in love with her and send him to his grave. In the harsh battles of the Yaminobu his feelings for her, along with his resolve, had prevailed but against her it was useless. He could not kill her, even if he was betrayed by his first love. If she had told him the full truth that night, if she had not left him this morning, if …

There is no point in wondering. She will no longer see his vibrant violet eyes. She will no longer here his soft voice, She will no longer fell the touch of his hands, the touch that so familiar in the vents of last night. It's over. She's lost her happiness again.

Shaking out of her reverie, she stares at the murderer, the same cold, dark murderer that had claimed her beloved just moments before. Emotions run through her as she grasps it: pain, sorrow, anguish, hatred, contempt. Her choice comes without hesitation. With one final stroke the cold-blooded steel claims its last victim. With her weakening strength she shifts the boy's body, placing his arms to enclose her upper back. Her own arms wrap around his own smaller, shorter frame.

"Wait for me Kenshin"

The words fall from her lips, before attaching themselves to his cold lifeless ones; a kiss that will last for eternity. And yet, one that won't that won't last at all. Her eyes close.

Her blood, mixed with his, marked the proof of their union, their vows spilled upon the white snow. The glowing crimson bore silent witness, a testament of their happiness, their betrothal, their marriage, their wedded bliss, their shared funeral pyre. They were together now; always. Each one bound to the other. A husband and wife locked together in a simple chaste kiss and passionate embrace.

Underneath a blue, amidst a sea of red.

* * *

so basically Kenshin kills the Yaminobu (even Tatsumi, not going to comment on the how). Believing he was the cause of her and still unworthy of her love he completed Tomoe's plan of revenge for her by slipping his sword into her arm while they embraced.

Tomoe, for her own part having fallen in love with Kenshin was distraught at the result his mental state put him in as well as his death had lost the will to live on without him so she killed herself with the same sword, thinking if Kenshin and her could not be together in life they would be so death.

a bit too OOC? you be the judge


End file.
